


Returning a Favor

by MementoLuceat (orphan_account)



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, love their interactions, these two dorks oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MementoLuceat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because there are people who care about you.” (PHPM Prompt #3: thankfulness)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning a Favor

Reim Lunettes might’ve been just a ten-year-old, but he was a ten-year-old with a mission. Well, it was self-assigned, but that didn’t make it any less important! It was very much justified and necessary, because honestly, that sulking was reaching an absurd level. It was so irritating that he couldn’t just ignore it, hence why he was searching every corner of the mansion for a glimpse of his target.

“There you are!”

The white-haired man tilted his head towards Reim, and he gasped. The bandages on his eye socket were torn and stained an ugly scarlet. Blood caked his fingertips and trickled down his face, but he only stared at Reim with a gaze of lifeless glass.

“Stop that! It’ll never heal if you keep doing that!”

Without a word, he turned away and reached back up to his eye.

“Stop!” Reim grabbed the man’s wrist, who gave a violent jerk and tried to pull back. “You have to stop!”

The man wrenched his hand away as his dispassionate expression twisted into a vicious scowl. “Why don’t  _you_  stop? Leave me alone!”

A sharp smack rang out in the air, and pain flared in Reim’s cheek. His glasses skittered across the floor as he stumbled back and cradled the stinging skin. That…insufferable…! Always so…so…! He bit back some of the more scathing things he wanted to say. “No!”

“Go away!”

“I said no!”

“You don’t understand  _anything_!” the man snarled, and clawed a trail of red across his skin. “Just leave me  _alone_!”

Not for the first time, Reim wondered what exactly had happened to this man. It didn’t seem like he would want to talk about it, so it wasn’t Reim’s place to pry. But he couldn’t leave him alone. It just wasn’t right, seeing someone so completely  _shattered_ like this. It was in times like this that good sense and logic could make all the difference. “It’s okay to be upset! But what are you trying to do by sulking?”

Silence. As he expected. “What are you trying to do by sulking?” he pressed.

“What else am I supposed to do?” the man burst out, voice raw with frustration and despair.

“Take care of yourself!” Reim shot right back. Everything he had been wanting to say for all this time poured out. “Stop scratching your eye and let it heal! Eat properly! Try to sleep! Let others try to help you!”

“And what’s the point? I don’t have anything to live for anymore!”

“That’s just an excuse! You’re not even trying– go  _find_  something to live for!”

The man opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out, and his face contorted in a strange mix of emotions. A bitter laugh bubbled out of his throat and he let his head fall limply, fingers tangled in his hair. “You just won’t leave me alone, won’t you? You, and all of them, and her.”

It was really just like how a wounded animal, in pain and desperation, lashed out at everything in reach. But as soon as Reim thought that, he crushed it and shredded all the pity that had been building up in him. This person was another human being, who had suffered a lot in the past. Pity would only insult the hardships he went through.

Gingerly, Reim picked up his glasses and pushed them back onto his nose. Make the distinction between pity and compassion, Shelly-sama would instruct. In a softer voice, he said, “Because there are people who care about you.”

The man’s eyes widened, and his hand fell down to his side. He drew in a ragged, shuddering breath, and for a moment Reim thought he would snap again. But he only slumped to the floor and leaned against the wall without a sound.

Reim took a cautious step forward, and assured that the man had calmed down a bit, walked up to him. “I’m going to change your bandages, okay?” The man flinched when Reim laid a hand over his wound, but he let Reim unravel the soiled cloth. A bout of nausea made his stomach churn when he caught sight of the bloody eye socket, and he swallowed the bile in his throat. He pulled out the clean bandages he’d brought along just in case something like this happened. “Don’t move.”

There was no sign of assent from the man, but he remained still when Reim began to wrap the bandages around his head. As he worked, his gaze strayed to the rest of the man’s face. The single red eye was watching him with a hint of bafflement, and he quickly fixed his attention back onto the bandages. The man seemed more subdued than ever before. Had he actually gotten through to him?

Finally, he tucked the loose end into place and stepped back to admire his finished work. It was crooked in some places, and definitely not as neat as Shelly-sama would’ve done it, but it was good enough–as long as the man didn’t try to scratch at it again. Which reminded him.

“Here, clean your hands.”

The man stared at the proffered handkerchief and shook his head. “It’ll get dirty.”

A vein twitched in Reim’s forehead and he reaffirmed his previous belief: this man was a colossal idiot. “If I didn’t want it to get dirty, why would I give it to you?”

A hint of red dusted the man’s cheeks and he snatched the handkerchief. After wiping the blood off his fingers, he handed it back to Reim, who took it with a grimace. Careful to avoid the stains, he gathered up the dirtied bandages and handed them off to a random unfortunate servant who happened to be passing by. He felt bad about that, he really did, but it would take too much time if he went to throw them out himself. And that was time that the man could use to retreat into another obscure corner of the mansion, where Reim would have to find him  _again_.

It was a relief to see that he was still there when Reim hurried back into the room. The man fidgeted with the hem of his shirt sleeves as he stood awkwardly by the window. He cast an uncomfortable glance around the room, which locked on Reim when he entered.

“Don’t scratch it, okay?” A slight dip of the head signaled agreement and Reim let out a breath. Now that that was all taken care of, he could finally proceed with his mission. He cleared his throat. “You’re indoors all the time, and that isn’t healthy, so you have to go outside!” He took the man’s arm and tugged him towards the door. “Come on!”

“I  _am_  coming, don’t pull!”

Reluctantly, Reim loosened his grip. Satisfied when his quarry didn’t try to run away, he let go. “The gardens aren’t too far.”

As they exited the mansion, the silence began to itch at him, and he struck up a light one-sided conversation. He pointed out the different species of trees whose outstretched branches they passed under. The man trailed mutely behind him, and Reim couldn’t tell if he was listening or not.

They walked on, and the tree branches parted. A muted red brick wall towered over them, and an iron gate wrought with stylized floral patterns sat in the center. Reim paused his lecture about the uses of maple wood to fish the key out his pocket. He turned it in the lock, and pulled…to no avail. He tugged at the gate again. It didn’t budge, and he felt his cheeks heat up. “M-maybe it’s just stuck…”

The man leveled a flat stare at Reim that made him turn even redder. Without a word, he effortlessly swung the gate open.

“I could’ve opened that myself…”

They stepped inside and the man immediately had to duck under a dangling branch. Trellises laced with vines arched above their heads, and petals drifted down to blanket the pathway with mellow whites and yellows. The brownstone meandered through bushes, and the sunlight glinted off streams that gurgled in the gentle quiet. The crisp morning air was tinged with the soothing aromas of all the different flowers, and Reim inhaled. No matter how many times he saw the Rainsworth gardens, they always managed to take his breath away.

Behind him, the man glanced around wide-eyed, and the stiffness seeped out of his frame. His single eye became half-lidded, and his lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. “It’s…nice,” he admitted.

Triumph swelled in Reim’s chest. That was another objective complete! He gave himself a mental pat on the back. “There’s one place I want to show you.” He beckoned for the man to follow as he rounded a bend and stopped in front of another gate.

“A garden inside of a garden.”

“Yes.”

The man gave the gate a meaningful look. “Do you–”

“No!” Reim snapped, and shot him a glare. With a grunt, he wrenched the gate open.

At the sound, a sparrow glanced up from a bird feeder and eyed them before returning to picking at the seeds. A flock of white-feathered birds paddled in a birdbath in languid circles, and paid no mind to the two new entrants. Leaves rustled as a songbird hummed a soothing melody from within a tree. Curling tendrils of roses draped the low walls. Their petals were suffused with a soft lavender hue, and a scent both simple and strangely distinct wafted through the air.

The man reached out and brushed a finger against a blossom with faint wonder. “I’ve never seen purple roses before.”

“They’re Xerxes roses. The Duchess Rainsworth just had them planted here recently–they came all the way from another country, actually–and now they’re in full bloom. What’s really fascinating about them is that even if they’re on the verge of death, with the right care, they can recover.” Reim basked in the glow of his superior knowledge. “They can survive almost anything as long as you tend to them properly.”

“That’s possible?” The man glanced back to the flowers, a trace of respect in his gaze. “They look so delicate.”

“I like to think it’s because that somewhere inside, they have a very strong will to survive. A lot like us.”

As soon as Reim realized what had slipped out of his mouth, his face burned and he coughed. He hadn’t meant to say something so sappy! But as the man gave him a quizzical look, a thought crossed his mind.

“You know,” he began, and considered his words, “you were right before, that I don’t understand anything about you. I don’t know who you are, or what happened to you. But…I think that all people are like this flower. That we can stand back up, even after a hard fall, as long as we have others supporting us. And you, too.”

Only silence followed, and Reim felt like shrinking into his clothes. Had what he said been tactless? He opened his mouth to apologize, but the man shook his head as though he knew what Reim wanted to say. As he turned away, Reim caught a glimpse of wetness in his eye.

“Maybe.”

* * *

Xerxes Break did know how to be serious, thank you very much. In fact, he was very good at being serious–when it suited him. But he had an idea of a threshold for seriousness, beyond which was simply unhealthy. And a certain someone had surpassed that threshold,  _again_. Which wouldn’t do at all. Thus, intervention was called for.

“Hellooo, Reim-san!”

Reim let out a high-pitched shriek and clutched his chest as Break clambered out of the cabinet. “ _What_  are you doing, Xerxes?”

“Just dropping by to visit a friend!” He sauntered over to Reim’s chair and surveyed the massive stacks of papers with exaggerated surprise. “That’s quite a lot of work you’ve got there. More than usual, in fact! What’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one.” Reim kept a determined gaze to the desk as he filled out a form and then grabbed another one.

Break waited, and when no other answers seemed forthcoming, he frowned. This called for drastic measures. He leaned against the chair and poked at Reim’s face.

He twitched.

“Reim-saaan…”

Break tugged his cheeks.

Another twitch.

“Hey, Reim-saaan…”

Finally he whirled around on Break. “What do you  _want_?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” A candy vanished into Break’s mouth, and he waved the wrapper at Reim. “See, today’s such a beautiful day that it’d be a shame to stay inside, and it just so happens that I have no work to do today–”

“More like you dumped it onto someone else.”

“–and,” he continued, as though Reim hadn’t spoken, “it’s been almost three months since you last had a vacation. Sooo, I thought we should go out for a stroll together!”

“No.”

The curt response made Break’s smile drop into a childish pout. “But, Reim-saaan…”

A pen flew past his ear and bounced off the wall with a clatter. “Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

“Buuut, all work and no play makes for a very dull Reim-san…”

“I suppose that’s easy for you to say,” Reim snapped, an edge to his voice.

Break straightened. Was that…bitterness? Something wasn’t right. The frown returned to his face, and he plucked a sheaf of documents out of a pile. As he shifted through them, his frown grew deeper. “These are due a month from now.” He cast another glance over the desk. “Almost all of these aren’t even due in a week.”

Reim looked away. “I just wanted to get a head start on them.”

For the first time since he entered the room, Break noticed the faint circles under Reim’s eyes. “Reim, what’s going on?”

In tense silence, Reim bit his lip and shifted in his seat. Finally, his eyes firmly averted, he spoke. “My Chain, it’s…” He paused, as though searching for some eloquent way to express his thoughts, and seemingly decided to forgo that. The chair clattered to the ground as Reim stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk. “It’s just so  _useless_!”

Everything went silent, save for Reim’s agitated breathing. Break watched with a wide eye as Reim struggled to calm himself. He had figured something was up, just not of this magnitude. Cautiously, he backed away a bit–he knew better than anyone that Reim would need space. Finally, Reim seemed to recollect his thoughts.

“It can’t fight, can’t heal, can’t even–oh, I don’t even know, it just can’t do anything! It’s useless!  _I’m_  useless! All I can do is paperwork! So I might as well…” He trailed off, his steam spent, and sucked in a deep breath.

“So you might as well work extra hard on that, to compensate,” Break finished. It all made sense now. He could’ve kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. “Reim–”

“Leave,” he interrupted. “I told you, all right? Now leave!”

Break heaved a resigned sigh…and promptly plopped himself onto the desk. Right on top of the papers.

“Get off,” Reim growled.

“Let me think…” A loud crack split the air as Break bit down on a lollipop. “How about…no.”

“Xerxes Break, I’m warning you, get off my paperwork.”

“Reim Lunettes, I’m telling you, go take a break.”

Reim glared and Break smiled pleasantly at him. “I’ll keep sitting here.”

“Xerxes, this is ridiculous.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“The ink will stain your clothes.”

“I’ll have them washed.”

“You’ll get sore.”

“That won’t bother me.”

“You’ll have to leave to eat. Or go to the bathroom. Or something.”

“I’m very patient.”

Reim grasped for something else, but flailed and settled for intensifying his glare. Break’s smile only widened. “Well?”

“Just let me do this!” Reim pleaded with a touch of desperation. “It’s the only way I can help, so why won’t you let me?”

It hurt Break, seeing Reim lock himself in his office and drown himself in work.  His smile softened, and he slid off the desk. Reim stiffened in shock as Break wrapped his arms around him. “Because there are people who care about you.”

For a moment, Reim only stood, stunned. “You still remember that?”

“Of course.”  _More than you’ll ever know._

Finally, Reim relaxed with a sigh. “All right, Xerxes. All right.”

As if a switch had been flipped, Break let go and scooted back a couple steps. “I’ve exhausted my physical contact allowance for the day,” he defended when Reim gave him a “really?” look. It was partially true, at least.

“I wasn’t aware there was such a thing,” Reim deadpanned, content to go along with Break’s antics. He glanced back at the now-disheveled papers with a furrowed brow. “Before anything else, though, I need to clean this up.”

“Oops, my bad.” To any other person, Break might’ve sounded completely unapologetic, and he couldn’t blame them. It took an expert to distinguish between his insincere tone and his maybe-slightly-vaguely sincere tone. Reim had theorized once that the amount of sincerity was exponentially directly proportional to the sincerity Break genuinely felt, which was reasonably accurate.

And because it was Reim, he immediately picked up on the difference. “Help me then.”

Several minutes and several lopsided stacks of paper later, the two stepped out of Pandora, and Reim held up a hand to shield his eyes. The sky was clear, save for the occasional wisp of white, and there was a cool breeze. “You’re right, it is nice.”

“Exactly!” Break trotted ahead and flapped a sleeve at Reim in a gesture to hurry up. “I heard there’s a merchant caravan at the marketplace. How about we check that out?”

“Well…” Reim fell to cleaning his glasses, a subconscious habit he’d developed in the last couple years. “I don’t really have any other ideas.”

“All right! To the marketplace it is!”

True to the rumors, a cluster of tents with foreign-looking patterns were set up, and a mass of curious shoppers milled about them. Reim frowned. “That’s going to be a nightmare to get through.”

“Only one thing to do then!” Break grabbed Reim’s arm, who yelped, and squeezed between several people. After a liberal amount of pushing, they were through.

“Whatever happened to your ‘physical contact allowance’?”

Ah. So he was still miffed about that? “I’ve decided to waive it. For today.” The last part Break added as a second thought. Holding onto someone for a bit was fine, and a hug borderline, but anything beyond that and it was plain uncomfortable. Open intimacy was just something he didn’t do–well, today had really stretched it for him, but other than that. “Anyway! Let’s–”

A low rumble cut him off, he quickly forgot the irritation at being interrupted as he muffled a chuckle. Reim flushed and placed a hand over his stomach as if that would stop its growling. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” he admitted.

“Two things: one, that’s unhealthy, and two, perfect!” The flat “what” from Reim went ignored. In a practiced habit, Break quickly zeroed in on the closest source of sugar: a vendor who was selling some unfamiliar but tasty-looking pastries.

But his attempt to make a beeline there was blocked by a firm grip on his arm. “Absolutely not.”

Break turned to Reim and made a face that he hoped adequately conveyed his  _extreme_ displeasure at being denied his sugar fix. “Reim-saaan…”

The other man didn’t budge. “I said no.”

“Awww, fine. I suppose we’ll just go and find some  _boring_  old  _regular_  food.”

Reim bopped him lightly on the head. “No whining either! Honestly, I’m surprised you still have teeth at this point.” Then a funny look crossed his face. “Wait, forget I said that. I just got a mildly horrifying mental image.”

In response, Break threw a candy at Reim. And immediately regretted it. He’d just wasted a perfectly good piece of candy! He wilted comically, and Reim sighed for what must’ve been the tenth time that day.

“Let’s just go. I smell something good from that tent over there.”

It wouldn’t be sugar though… But today was Reim’s day. Break shrugged and followed him. They ducked under the tent flap, and he let out a low whistle as Reim’s eyes grew wide. An array of foods from different countries covered the tables. There were thick pastes, steaming soups, juicy meat, sauce-dipped vegetables, and more types of bread than they had fingers.

“There’s so many…” Reim flitted from one dish to the next. “What should we get?”

“Excuse us, we’d like to have one of each, please!”

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to do it…”

Break’s wallet was considerably lighter when the merchant laid out seven plates heaped with food, and he frowned. This was a dilemma.

Ever the sensible one, Reim picked up two. “We’ll just take them to a table in multiple trips, then.”

That was too slow! All that food was practically begging to be eaten with all due haste. In such a situation, there was only one thing to do. When Break turned back to Reim with four plates balanced precariously on his arms and one wobbling on his head, the other man looked about to have a heart attack. “All right, let’s go!”

The plates swayed a bit, and Reim tensed up even more. “Xerxes, that’s dangerous!”

“Don’t wooorry, Reim-san!” Carefully, Break maneuvered through the crowd to an empty table, and set the plates down. “See, no harm done!”

“You’re…” Reim seemed at a loss for words, and huffed. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“I’m flattered!” Break snatched up a flaky brown roll of some sort and chewed it. Hm, crisp and slightly burnt, with a hint of orange. He swallowed the rest and offered another one to Reim, who took it with a curious look. “Try this, it’s good.”

“I’ll take you on your word for that.”

As Reim tried the roll, Break decided to try his luck again and bit into a glazed piece of meat. An overwhelming lemony tang flooded his mouth, and he fought hard not to spit it right out, because Reim would never let him live that down. Instead, he forced it down with a grimace and coughed.

A small laugh made him look up with an embarrassed glower. Reim covered his mouth as he tried to suppress the sound, though not with a lot of success. “You looked like you just swallowed a lemon.”

Break turned his stink eye to the rest of the meat. “I might’ve. Did they cook this in lemon juice or something?”

“You can ask them,” Reim offered, still very much amused.

“You know what? I think I’ll do that.” It bothered Break how so much sourness could be packed into one piece of meat. It was just unnatural! Or maybe it was black magic? A couple of other people gave him strange looks when he giggled to himself. Cooks performing sinister rituals to imbue meat with sourness…

He indulged in that train of thought for a bit longer until out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of another tent and stopped short. Were those…? A sudden idea came to him, and on impulse, he darted over. After a quick exchange that put yet another dent in his wallet–internally, he mourned the rapid draining of his sugar money fund–he tucked his purchase into his coat and hurried back to their table.

Reim had polished off the rest of the food, and when Break gaped, he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Sorry I didn’t leave any for you, I must’ve been hungrier than I thought…”

“Evidently.” Break cast the empty plates a wistful look, but shrugged. He wasn’t that hungry to begin with, and he didn’t want to chance another lemon-bomb. Speaking of which: “About that meat, I got distracted and forgot to ask about it. Whoops.” It was true, at least.

“Oh…” Reim hung his head. “I was actually curious about that…”

He was that interested? A part of Break suddenly felt bad, and he cleared his throat. “Anyway, why don’t we go somewhere quieter? A park, maybe?”

“There’s one nearby. I’ve been there a couple times, and there usually aren’t too many people.”

Break swept into a grandiose bow. “Lead the way, then!”

Just as Reim said, the park was blanketed in a tranquil hush, a refreshing breather from the clamor of the city. Break leaned against the wooden railing that encircled a placid pond. Several ducks treaded the clear water, and he tossed a couple crumbs at them.

“Imagine what people would say when they see the fearsome Xerxes Break feeding ducks,” Reim commented.

“Oh, boo. I’ll feed ducks whenever I want to.” The last of the crumbs vanished into the throats of the ducks as Break dangled an arm off the side of the railing.

Reim only hummed in response as he watched the surface of the water ripple with the breeze. They lapsed into silence, and Break’s hand strayed to the pocket where he’d put his purchase. He hesitated for a moment, and then decided: oh, screw it.

“Reim, about what you said earlier…”

“Ah.” Reim’s hands curled into fists. “I–”

“No, wait.” Break turned to face him, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Reim, listen. You might think you’re useless and weak, but strength isn’t just being able to fight.”

That was something he had always believed, and now more than ever. “The strongest man in Pandora”, they called him. But he knew better than anyone just how weak he was. And compared to him, Reim… Reim was always so hard-working, thoughtful, reliable. He was always the one to light a candle in the dark. And Break wouldn’t be here if that light hadn’t found him. He reached into his coat.

“You’re strong, in your own way. You’ve done so much for me. So…”

Held out in his hand was a single Xerxes rose. Reim stared at it in mute astonishment.

“Thank you.”

Slowly, he drew in a breath. “Xerxes, you…” He trailed off and shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”


End file.
